Betrayal
by Comatose Overdose
Summary: bitter, cross, and depressed after walking in on Spain having sex with his little brother, Romano writes out his feelings as his final words to Spain. Spamano,Character death.


**Betrayal**

How could you? I trusted you! And yet you don't even fucking care, do you, you heartless asshole! You fucked my little brother, when I was sitting here at home, waiting for you and only too willing to have sex with you! I loved you!

I just want to know why.

For once, I thought I was good enough for someone. I thought that I had actually found someone that would always choose me over Feli. I thought I had found someone who loved me.

You, Antonio. I thought you were absolutely perfect. You may be a little airheaded, and maybe you get kinda scary if someone pisses you off while you're drunk, but regardless, I had always thought of you as perfect. Thank you for proving exactly how stupid I am. It would take a complete fucking MORON to trust someone like you, the country of passion, or should I say the country who does nothing but fuck? My god you're worse than that damn fuckfaced frog friend of yours! My warning was right there in your god damned nickname! But, no. I ignored it. I thought you were different.

I was wrong, mistaken, and now my heart is fucking shredded because of it.

I wish I could say I loathe you, hate you, think of you as the scum of the fucking Earth and say you deserve to roast in Hell for the rest of eternity, but…. I can't. I still love you, and I know that all it would take is one simple look in those too fucking _green_ eyes of yours, and I'll melt, crawling back to you, forgiving you, and… I can't. I can't let that happen because I can't trust you anymore. God Knows I want to, my God, do I want to… But it would kill me in the end, I know it. You would only hurt me more. I can't help but think that every time you looked in my eyes, you wanted it to be my little brother staring back at you. Sweet, adorable Feliciano with a heart of gold who could never say anything even remotely mean to a fucking bug, let alone a person. The one who rarely cursed and never at someone, the one who loved everybody and who everybody loved in return. The one who has always been and always will be chosen over me. I can't help but feel in my gut like a stabbing pain tearing through me that that was what you wished. That you wished you had succeeded in trading me back to Austria in return for my brother. I heard you, you bastard. Do you know how hard I cried that night? I had already fallen in love with you from that young age, because like I said before, I thought you were different. You took care of me. You never yelled at me no matter what I did. You always tried to keep me happy. I thought you loved me too. And to hear you trying to trade me back to that fucking piano-humping asshole hurt more than any battle wound ever could. You were right, I am fragile, and I always have been. Why didn't you keep that in mind when you talked to that cheapskate? Did you just not care? That must be it.

You've never cared.

You know, I know you do, that you're the only one I've kissed? You're the only one I was ever nice to more often than I was to my brother? That you're the only one who's ever gotten the chance to fuck me? You took everything from me. My heart, my body, hell, I'd have given you my very fucking _soul_ had you asked, I would have forked it right over, saying to hell with heaven.

But now I'm sitting here alone, writing in this goddamn diary, brooding and sobbing in a dark room with only a dim lamp for light. My eyes are puffy and swollen from all the tears I've cried, but my eyes can't seem to stop making them. My chest hurts from my crying, the wracking wails and sobs I've been emitting ever since I found what you had done. But it's not like you care. But when I "leave" I'll be gone forever, and this book will stay lying open on this very desk so you can see proof of just how much you've hurt me.

You've killed me Antonio.

But I still love you.

-Lovino

* * *

Antonio was back from Gilbert's house after straightening out his mind. What had he done? He'd had everything. He had Lovino. And yet, he had sex with Lovi's little brother, the same one who had caused Lovi to develop a severe inferiority complex. And Lovi caught him. He had walked in on them, and saw what Antonio was doing for himself. The look on Lovino's face crushed his heart every time he thought back to that moment.

He loved Lovino with everything that he had, everything that he was, and yet he still betrayed him.

Why?

Because his life was too perfect.

What the hell kind of an excuse was that? But it was true. That's how it was. So he had to go and ruin it. God, he wouldn't be surprised if Lovino just slapped him across the face, switch blade in hand the next time he saw him. It would only serve the Spaniard right.

He had confessed everything that had happened to his best friends, but even they had no real advice for him. Francis simply wished him luck, saying that he hoped everything would work out and that he could still be with Lovino. Gilbert wasn't quite as understanding. Sure, he acknowledged the fact that Spain at least knew that what he had done was wrong, but he said that it would simply be no less than what he deserved for what he had done if Lovino never spoke a word to him again. He said that he hoped his friend's relationship could be fixed for Antonio's sake, but also that the brunette shouldn't hold his breath for even a second and that he wouldn't blame Lovi in the least for leaving the Spaniard.

Antonio wouldn't blame him either.

Antonio arrived home and went up the stairs. He wanted to see if Lovino was still there, or if he had run off. It wouldn't be shocking if all the Italian's possessions and suitcase were missing. He opened the door to their shared room quietly.

"Lovino? Are you in there? I know saying sorry won't help any- LOVINO!" Hanging by the neck from a rope tied to the ceiling was the Italian, head lolling to the side. God, no… no…

He had a switchblade in his pocket that he pulled out and quickly cut the rope, catching the corpse as it fell.

"Lovi? Oh, Dios, Lovi!" He sobbed, his tears falling on the Italian's cold face. He gave the body a kiss on he cheek, the forehead, the lips, begging for it to not be true. He clutched the body for a little while longer, hugging the lifeless form to his chest as tightly as he could, whispering apologies over and over again. He looked up after a while, his vision still blurry from the waterworks, and saw a little green notebook, the same color as his own eyes, propped up and open, a neon sticky note on it that said "read me." Though reluctant to relinquish his grasp on Lovino, his curiosity eventually won him over. Whatever was written in that notebook was most likely Lovi's last words.

As he read the note over he couldn't help but break into hysterics once more.

'_God, what have I done? It's all my fault!'_

**Oh, so angsty. Hmm… Well, is it any good? Please let me know what you think. CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is always welcome here. But I just can't write a happy story about them can I? You'll understand when I post my other story for them in a few days. If you decide to read it that is. **

**Until next time, my lovelies.**

**{:~CoMa~DoSe~ :}**


End file.
